


The Rippling Echoes of Freedom

by SweetScone



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Contracts, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Bravely Default, Reader hired Khint, Reader-Insert, Slight Canon Divergence, Slight fluff, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7715056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetScone/pseuds/SweetScone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in the Ancheim desert is harsh, especially when you're on the run. Luckily enough, you were able to hire yourself a bodyguard.</p>
<p>However, when gold comes short, you find yourself in a predicament. You desperately need his services -and maybe something else. And the price you are ready to pay is steep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rippling Echoes of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Khint smut! I was really hyped to write this, but after doing a bit of research on the character to get me in the groove (been a while since I played that game), I suddenly felt strangely bad when I read that he had a daughter and that he gathered money for her illness... So I wrote a scenario where he is a spell fencer even before having a daugther? I doubt that it is actually canon, but hey -it's for the sake of the smut!
> 
> In any case, I tried to be somewhat vague, so you can make up your own details from there. Maybe you'll actually become that little girl's mother.
> 
> Enjoy :)!

You would always know when he was coming –always the darkest hour of the night, when the winds went stale and the air nipped the skin numb. The distant clatter of his bangles and ornaments would announce his impending advent before he would even step within the candle’s small range of light. Thus the rattling of brass jewelry would resonate for a while longer within the empty hallways; the confident steps of a predator that had his prey cornered, Death honing its well-kept scythe. The harvest would always be the same: packaged tightly within a cloth purse, weight cold and dead as he carried it back with him, his newly acquired goods chiming louder at his waist than when he had come.

Once the shrouded man had claimed his rightful payment, however, what he would leave behind would always be heavier than any gold he could carry at his side: the scent of blood upon his newly sheathed blade, the news of early and orchestrated deaths.

Just as you had requested. Such exchanges had transpired for months, ever since you had parted ways from the fatherly home on the sly. It only took the sight of frilly, white dresses and the unspoken promise of your hand to an unknown man, and you were gone, a simple bag over your shoulders filled with the riches of your father’s coffers. Withal your hasty precautions, however, your own resources had come to run dry. You had soon come to realise that your poor and bleak hide out would never be quite enough to deter the pursuers your father had sent after you, and so you had taken to hire a bodyguard, one of the only the Ancheim desert had to offer.

So had been spent the last few gold coins you had to spare; the reaper was coming to claim his due and you found your hands empty.

…

You always met in the cove of abandoned ruins, changing the locations weekly to escape any sort of tracking. This week’s was your favorite: shielded from any outside attention and still cozy despite the dusty stone. You stood in your hooded over coat, face turned to the candlelight as you listened to the silent pleas of the night. Then you caught it –thrumming, rhythmic echoes pealing about the walls, and your heart stammered in your chest, beating like a mad drum, ensnared by your approaching visitor. The man spoke little, yet you knew already how he would react –and you could not blame him. It was your own fault for sending him off again on the chase, knowing full well your purse could not handle this time’s cost. A knot caught in your throat, refusing to dissipate no matter how you swallowed. The ringing crept closer.

Nonetheless, you liked to believe you had not come empty handed. The sudden urge to laugh at yourself finally overpowered the tight coil in your trachea. Fleeing one misery to create your own. Then again, this one would be your choice, one you had planned willingly.

Your inner debate ceased when the man’s steps went quiet. You simply glanced his way, not daring tuning your head to meet the burning embers of his irises. His own coat cloaked his generous stature, embroidery and trinkets shimmering in the flickering light. The procedure was always the same: mechanical, impersonal, mercantile. Tonight, however, the scales would dip.

The man groaned lowly when you made no move to give him his usual payment. He had a keen nose for trouble, and he knew immediately something was up.

"Woman…"

 His voice was a growled whisper, a warning to his impending wrath -but you knew he would make no move to actually hurt you. He would probably simply turn around, bringing the jingle of his bracelets and his services with him. The worst punishment for betraying the promise of money would be being caught by your pursuers.

His silhouette breached the rim between light and shadow, and his features, severe and stern, revealed themselves. The dark wells of his pupils were as hot as expected, two holes pulling light and breath amidst the swirling, searing coals of his irises. The bangs of his dark teal hair swayed as he craned his neck, the silent question burning into your mind.

You tightened the lace of your robe further against your chest, preparing for what you had to say.

"I'm sorry, Khint. I don't have the usual payment this time."

You dropped your gaze to your feet, entranced by the way the lambent light was licking at them.

"…"

No answer. As far as he was concerned, your mutual contract had just been terminated. You served no further purpose - at that realisation, you felt like all your mediocre efforts to run away had been vain. You had ended up in the same position: a fickle figure to puppet when the need for profits arose. _Except the man beside you was…_

"Then I have no reason to be here."

His voice was cold, emotionless; you somehow wished he would let his anger seethe, swear or scream at you –why was it that you felt utterly betrayed when you had been the one to let him down? He moved to exit, the spice of his perfume wafting through the air.

"Wait."

So Khint did, resting his hand on the handle of the scimitar at his hip to peer back at you with one unblinking eye.

"I have, however, another proposal."

"I don't take late payments with interest."

"That's not it."

You turned fully to him, facing him head on with the candlelight at the back of your head. The confines of your robe were stifling despite the night air. You thumbed its ties awkwardly.

"Then do speak, or I will have myself another contractor."

You took a single step towards him, his suffocating aura sending tingles up your spine. That alone was enough to pique his interest, and he faced you fully as well. Your fingers tugged at the laces of your coat awkwardly.

You had never seen the man in combat: only heard of his prowess from the far corner of some obscure bar. As he moved to stop you, however, you had no difficulty believing in his skill. You could only comprehend what had transpired once your back hit the cold hard wall. Khint's hand was over yours, latching onto the fabric of your coat, his other hand cemented beside your head on the stone. His eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you could almost believe the makeshift horns over his hood were authentic.

“Do you realise the consequences of your own schemes?”

His tone was low, the soft, soothing hum of summer winds. Your lower lip trembled as he held you captive to the wall, the grasp of his hand punishing on your smaller one. But determination rooted itself in your chest –to return home, that luxurious yet desolate abode, that lavish yet empty, hollow crib, would be the death of you.

“I know my own limits.”

Khint’s eyes remained affixed to yours silently as you finally dared hold his gaze, moments after the words had left your mouth. His grip on you appeared to momentarily falter, only for his hand to swat yours away and for his fingers to forcefully undo the multiple laces on the front of your robe. The cloth fell open like a neatly wrapped present, hood to your back and sleeves gliding down your shoulders. The nightly drafts immediately summoned goose bumps to your fully barren body, the sight imprinting itself atop Khint’s leering eyes.

“I know of your… ‘Offer’. Is your fate not ironic?”, his eyes kept to your face as he talked, and whether it was out of respect or pity was mystery, “The daughter of one of the richest man in the land reduced to prostituting herself to her hired mercenary”, if really he did find some laughable matter in the situation, his expression did nothing to demonstrate it, “my means are physical prowess and my goal is money: nothing apart or opposite from it.”

He wrenched one of your sleeves further down to emphasize his point and you could only witness in embarrassed silence.

“I could leave you to the wolves –to the men who would not hesitate to violate you before returning you home. Although bringing you there myself would probably be more profitable; surely, a reward summing up to double what you paid me.”

You wished the candlelight would not expose the weakness welling in your eyes so. The scenario in your head had unrolled far more smoothly. In your woven fiction, you were still the one in control. However, being cooped up and pampered most of your life had prevented you from learning the ways of the unruly desert and, by addition, a lesson of survival: you had to bend to its stronger winds, treading it only when it would allow you. The foolishness of your youth had wanted of you that you attempt to carve your own untrodden path –one regrettable failure, you thought.

You hadn’t even told him of your conditions, but thinking back on it, you were sure your father had plastered news of your disappearance wherever his influence allowed him.

Your voice broke and faltered, however your speech remained unchanged, “I know of my limits. This is one I would cross for my freedom: even with my poor business skills I can judge it a fair, hefty price.”

“Do you?”

His hand clasped around your chin, forcing your eyes up into his again and into the somber amber of his skin. His eyes were those of the beast in that instant, his sinuous bangs that of anthracite smoke, his breath the rumbling of the rousing dragon –then his mouth was on yours, devouring you whole, the blistering heat of his tongue against your lips akin to the reptile’s fiery exhalations. The kiss was brief yet violent, the surge of passion long restrained.

“I do. That’s because you-”

But the words were left unspoken, foreign to the worldly air. Khint’s tongue was begging entrance at your mouth again, muffling any sound escaping. You welcomed him within your warmth, your arms looping around his clothed neck to tug him closer.

That you could offer yourself to him so vulnerable, so exposed… That was because he was also the man you loved –another freedom your old life would never allow.

As your fingers weaved through the silky fabric of his hood, hooking under the rim of his crown, he moved back, letting you slump slightly against the wall. You looked up to him dazedly, his eyes an unwavering beacon besides the inconsistent, dancing flame of the candle.

“This signs the beginning of a new contract, one of which I am the employer. My payments are protection, in exchange of which you pledge yourself to me, body and soul. Are the terms acceptable?”

The way he spoke of it was no different than an actual transaction, yet relief and euphoria mingled within your stomach; it was his way of answering to your wordless plight.

“Y-yes.”

Thus the pact was sealed, the chapped skin of his lips against yours proof of it. Clothes came undone faster than an approaching sandstorm: his sash and robe fell limply to the floor, ornaments clattering weakly on the pile as it fell upon it. Your own get up, so meager was it, was also cast to the floor, stirring clouds of dust along with it. Stillness festered between you for seconds longer, each of you admiring the other’s figure in the candle’s feeble halo. The chiseled lines of his body folded over the planes of his thick, tanned muscles, scars adding to the appeal of his mature silhouette. However your eyes averted one area willingly, opting to follow the soft cascading of his mane up to his face –then the race was open.

His lips collided with the sensitive skin of your neck, branding the flesh red with his marks, his hands careening the edge of your curves, mapping the boundaries of your delicate and receptive areas. Your own digits sauntered over the smoothness of his shoulders, threading into the enticing maze of his hair to lock behind his head. You gasped when his hands kneaded the tender flesh of your bottom, nails digging into the skin to anchor himself as he suddenly lifted you up against the wall. Hurriedly your legs snaked around his waist, your desperation for touch palpable in the way your arms hugged him close.

Khint’s own arousal was made apparent when the head of his throbbing cock nudged at your sex, sliding over the already generously slicked ellipse of your labia, something that served only to drive your further into the maddening pits of lust. You wanted him in – _now_.

“Please Khint! Just put- Ah, Crystals!”

Once again your words had not been needed, the length of his shaft breaching the needy entrance of your cunt. His hips gyrated back and forth repeatedly before his entire girth could settle within the downy tightness of your walls, his carnal growls a testament to his pleasure. You cried out in blissful pain, the massive size of his manhood splitting you wide and far. He let you adjust slightly, something you were grateful for as you willed your inner muscles to relax. Your upper back hit the wall shortly after as Khint began unsheathing his length out of you, slamming back in slow yet hard. Your skin scrapped lightly against the rocky wall –a minute discomfort the barreling of his cock made you forget easily enough. Your own digits were tracing the spikes of your pleasure upon his reddening back as he proceeded to bounce you up and down onto his lap.

He stopped momentarily to hoist you up higher around him, an action to which you whimpered before he impaled you again and again on his swollen arousal –to that you moaned out your satisfaction, head limping to the side as you let yourself be carried by the overwhelming pleasure.

The way his hips grazed against yours just plummeted you closer to release: every time he would sink within your depths his skin would come grazing against your clit, stimulating the wet, red bud of your sex. A pulsating ache ravaged your abdomen as it began coiling and rolling –you had to let him know.

“Khint! I, I can’t last much longer!”

His silence persisted, save for the growing husky grunts rasping his throat. You suddenly bounced higher up on his cock, the man grappling your ass with one hand as he pushed you further to the wall, his now free hand gliding to the slope of your thighs: his fingers expertly located your clit, rubbing and rolling it deliciously between two digits.

“Oh, by the Crystals, I’m going to-”

Your body completed the sentence for you, spasming between the suffocating space of Khint’s body and the wall. Your legs tensed around his waist and your back arched, ramming yourself down further on the blazing hotness of his sex. Saliva coated the side of your chin, and you could hardly resist the pull of his rippling and contracting shoulder muscles: you sank your teeth into the thick skin as you rode out your orgasm, anchoring yourself to the slightest hint of reality. At that Khint groaned particularly loudly, hips moving greedily as he reached his own bliss, releasing the blistering seed of his arousal within your clenching walls.

Amidst the receding lethargy of your orgasm, you noticed yourself beginning to slump. Khint dropped you to the floor gently, cradling you within his arms as both of your heartbeats calmed. You barely registered the moment he kissed your forehead –there was an awful amount of dust floating around, surely it stuck to your whole body.

You could have fallen asleep just as you were, but Khint nudged you awake and handed you your robe –along with his undershirt, long enough to reach your upper knees.

“Your pursuers are relentless. This won’t be easy for us, however mostly for you. I do hope you have gauged your limits correctly…”, he said with severity, yet his crimson eyes seemed strangely gentle, “… We will have to run and hide for a while before I can settle you somewhere safe.”

You felt you would burden him. But the way he waited for you as you got dressed, hand inviting you to his side as you walked the hallways of the hideout, reassured you for a lifetime. You exited the ruins with hands fuller than you had come, and suddenly, the deathly ringing of jewelry beside you was made much more melodious as you clicked your tongue to it.

The price of freedom was hefty –but the company of the man beside you was all the wealth you needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, kudoing or commenting, as always!


End file.
